


All the Young Dudes (are crazy)

by deakystoast_georgesbiscusts



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, They're jerks to each other, john teases paul, kind of, paul is annoyed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23125990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deakystoast_georgesbiscusts/pseuds/deakystoast_georgesbiscusts
Summary: Paul McCartney is forced to move as soon as the school year ended. Unfortunately, he has the worst, most annoying neighbor ever.John Lennon gets a new neighbor, so John relentlessly makes fun of him. The only problem is how terribly gay John is.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 20
Kudos: 78





	1. Time is Irrelevant

"Oi! McCartney! Where you headed at four in the morning?" A snarky, nasally voice called. Paul looked up at his terrible neighbour's window. An overly confident face was smirking at him, his eyes glistening behind wavy auburn hair.  
"Shut up Lennon!" Paul whisper-screamed, "You'll wake the whole bloody street."  
The boy, John, just smirked even bigger, "Poor wittle Paulie, doesn't want to wake his daddy!"  
Paul could feel white hot rage shoot through him, "At least I've got a dad!" He had no idea why the boy made him so furious.  
John's smirk faded into a sharp glare, "Whatever, just leave. Go find your boyfriend or whatever."  
Paul rolled his eyes, "Just because you're a queer doesn't mean I am."  
John's lips twitched, "What is this, the fifties? Who the hell even says 'a queer'?"  
Huffing, Paul strutted away, "I hope you know that I won this one!" John called after the dark haired boy. He smiled brightly at Paul, who turned around briefly to glare at him.  
Paul huffed again, sending a text to Dot, his girlfriend, who was NOT a boy like John had said. He wasn't gay. Nope. Not one bit. He was VERY straight. Yup. Straightest person ever. In fact, he was going to go see his very female girlfriend currently because he was that straight. No matter what his best friend, his brother, John, and his dad implied.  
Even earlier that day his dad had come up to him and said something along the lines of, 'You don't have to pretend you're something you're not, son, I'll always accept you no matter what.' What the hell did that even mean?  
All of the sudden, his phone buzzed. Dot. Apparently she was grounded and she didn't want to get even further in trouble because she was with Paul. Paul sighed, clicking off his phone and turning swiftly back around.

"Ey Paul! Did you have some realisations when you were going to see that girlfriend of yours?"  
"Were you watching me the whole time, Lennon? I think that says more about you than about me." Paul retorted to the boy in the window.  
"Oh please." John scoffed, "I am SO far out of your league. And no. I wasn't watching you. I, in fact, have insomnia, so I enjoy staring off into the starry abyss that is the deep midnight sky."  
"Taking up poetry, are you?"  
John chuckled, "Already have, Paulie."  
Paul huffed, "If you're going to talk to me, at least call me the right name."  
John tapped his chin thoughtfully, "Nope!"  
Paul groaned and shimmied up the tree next to his own window, which happened to be directly adjacent to John's. Unfortunately.  
"Gotta get back before daddy catches you, huh Paulie?"  
Paul shot a pointed glare at him, pulling himself into the window.  
John just smiled brightly, an air of smugness about him.  
"Night-night Paulie!"  
Paul was lucky summer was not even close to being over, so he didn't have to face John at school, and so he could sleep in.  
Paul made it into his room, but he could still feel John's eyes piercing the back of his head. He held up a middle finger, not even looking at the smug, annoying, strangely confident boy. Loud, melodic laughter filled his ears.  
Paul promptly face planted into his bed, wanting John to disappear from his world, taking the cruel teasing and annoying jokes with him.  
*~*~*~*  
"Paul! Paaauuulll! JAMES PAUL MCCARTNEY!" Paul's dad's voice ripped through the silence and warm, muggy air.  
"Yeah dad?!" Paul yelled.  
Silence.  
"Yeah!?" He tried again.  
More silence.  
Paul tugged on a shirt and stumbled down the stairs. His dad sat at the table, peacefully sipping from a cup of tea.  
"What do you need?"  
Jim McCartney turned around, "Oh, hello. You were out late."  
Paul sighed, "I was going to see Dot, but then I didn't."  
"That doesn't explain the boy yelling at you through your window."  
"That's bloody John Lennon." Paul groaned, "I really don't like him."  
Jim nodded, unconvinced.  
"You woke up Mike."  
"Sorry," Paul shrugged.  
"Don't apologise to me. Say it to him." Jim nodded to the small boy rubbing tired eyes behind him.  
"Sorry Mikey," Paul knelt down to Mike's level, "It won't happen again." Mike wrapped is small arms around his teenage brother.  
"It's okay, Paul."  
Paul stood up, grabbing an apple and his phone, "I'm headed to George's, dad."  
Jim sighed, "Don't be out too late," was all he said.  
Paul strutted out of the door.  
"McCartney!" A familiar, nasally voice called.  
Paul sped up, ignoring the slightly taller boy.  
"Paulie! Wait!"  
Paul whirled around, "What, Lennon?" He growled.  
"Can't a bloke want to talk to his mate?"  
Paul got in John's face, "We are not friends." He accentuated each word with a poke to John's chest. "Leave me alone. You've got me in enough trouble already."  
Paul kept walking. John put his arm around Paul's neck.  
"Is wittle Paulie angwy wiff Johnny?" He joked, smirking.  
Paul shoved him off harshly. John's smirk subsided slightly.  
"What the hell is your problem?"  
"You! You're my fucking problem." Paul yelled, pushing him back further.  
"How?!" John heaved Paul away from him.  
Paul pushed harder, John stumbled back, hitting the pavement loudly.  
John shook his hand rapidly, blood dripping out. He glared at Paul, wiping his bloodied hands on his shirt, staining it red.  
Paul suppressed every shred of guilt and continued walking. He didn't even look back.


	2. Changes

In hindsight, Paul should have looked back at John, who had gotten up surprisingly quickly. Paul felt rough hands grab the collar of his shirt. Suddenly, Paul's face was shoved into John's sneering glare.  
"I still don't know what your problem with me is, but I was trying to be nice." John laughed angrily, "That's not happening anymore."  
Paul couldn't even process what was happening, sharp pain shot through his face. He could feel his eyes welling with tears and his nose crack and fill with blood. John shook off his fist, let go of Paul, and walked away from him.  
Paul reached for his now cracked phone and called George.  
"Geo... Uh... I'm in a bit of a situation." Paul sat up, getting dizzier, the blood rushing down his aching chin.

George was there within minutes, his thick eyebrows knitting together and his thin lips pursing. "Paul... What did you do now?"  
Paul scoffed, "What did I do? ME?! It was fucking John Lennon. He followed me, so I pushed him away. Then he just comes out of nowhere and bloodies up my face!"  
George laughed slightly, kneeling down and hoisting one of Paul's arms onto his shoulder, pulling him up. "We need to get you cleaned up, Macca."  
Paul looked around, his vision still blurry, but he could faintly see a figure with a blob of rust coloured hair watching him and George.

Paul flopped onto George's bed, his face bandaged and rid of most blood.  
He let out a long groan, "I hate him, Georgie. So much. He's fucking smug and overconfident and he always looks like he's judging me. He's stupid and makes fun of me and- UGGGHHHHH!"  
George laughed, sitting down next to Paul, "You haven't talked about someone this much since you first met Dot."  
Paul stared at George, taken aback, "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Paul shuddered, "One, I'm not gay. And two, even if I was, that's bloody disgusting. Just the thought that I would ever want to do that-," Paul made gagging sounds.  
"So you've thought about it." George stated smugly.  
"What? No- That's- That isn't what I meant. Geo, no. What?"  
George stood up, giving him an ominous look causing Paul to begin of scenarios in which he and John were... Romantically engaged. Something strange, like hatred and disgust swirled in his stomach.  
"Go home, Paul," George told him, "I think you need to process your feelings."  
"Are you kicking me out?" Paul asked, offended, "Maybe I will leave then. I'll go see Dot, my GIRLFRIEND."  
"To break up?" George asked, hopefully.  
"No, George. No."  
George sighed and walked Paul out of his house.  
"GO BREAK UP WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!" He called out the window to Paul's receding figure.  
"NO!" Paul called back. Dot was wonderful, he wasn't going to leave her, and she wasn't going to leave him.

"Paul, I think we should break up."  
Shock shot through Paul as he stared confusedly into Dot's soft eyes.  
"What?" He couldn't believe it. George probably fed her lies that put doubt in her mind.  
Dot looked embarrassed, "It's just... I don't know if I feel the same way that I did when we first met. And, I have to be honest, you're pretty clingy. Like, just today, you tried to see me at three in the morning."  
Paul sighed, "So not because George told you I'm gay?"  
Dot looked taken aback, "You're gay?!"  
"What? No, no, no, no, no. But George thinks I am and is convinced I have a thing for my neighbour, who did this," he gestured to his bandaged face, "like an hour ago."  
Dot giggled quietly, "Back on topic, I still think we should be friends and all that stuff, but don't expect any kisses." Paul laughed and hugged her, trying to hide the pain that was pulsating in his chest.  
"Bye, Paul."  
"Bye, Dot..." Paul waved, not knowing where to go.  
He went to confront John.

He knocked on the door politely, fuming with rage. John opened it, glasses perched crookedly on his long nose, they amplified his tired eyes like a magnifying glass.  
His gaze became alert, "I hope you're here to apologise."  
Paul smiled joylessly, "No. I'm going to make you apologise. First you messed up my morning, then you beat me up after I pushed you like, twice, then my best friend kept saying that I was gay and had a thing for you, which is gross, not gays, but you in general, then on top of all of that, my fucking girlfriend leaves me." Paul panted and glared harder at John.  
"Do you want to come in for tea or some shit? It sounds like you have a lot you need to talk about." He said calmly.  
"No! I don't need your fucking tea. For all I know, it could be poisoned!"  
John put a hand on Paul's back and gently lead him inside. Paul didn't struggle.  
"So, to start off, I am very sorry for my actions, I have problems with anger that I am currently working on," John spoke like he was reading from a script. "But, looks like you got bandaged pretty well. It's a shame for such a pretty face to be covered up like that." Paul's stomach did the hatred/disgust swirly thing again and his face flushed with what he was pretty sure was anger.  
"Are you really flirting with me right now?"  
John laughed, throwing his head back and his shoulders shaking joyfully.  
Paul scoffed, sipping from his teacup and sinking down into his chair.  
"What happened with your girlfriend? You two seemed good, like, this morning."  
Paul sighed sadly, placing his cup on a coaster, "She said that she didn't feel the same way about me, and that I was clingy. So I was like, did George say I was gay? And she was like, you're gay? But I'm not. Then she said that she still wanted to be friends." Paul groaned, sinking further down so that his chin was pressed against his chest.  
John patted his shoulder, "You're Paul McCartney. Just look at you you can get any lady, or bloke, if you decide that you swing that way, that you want. You'll be okay, I promise." Paul looked at John, really looked at him for the first time. His warm brown eyes were inlaid amber speckles, making them shinier and strangely beautiful. But they weren't just brown, there were hints of green and darker brown and even black. Also, as Paul scanned his face intently, he noticed that his nose and cheeks were dotted with freckled and tiny scratches.  
"For a straight guy, you're sure spending a lot of time looking at my face." John laughed. Paul blushed.  
"It wasn't that long..." He mumbled.  
John patted his head, "Sure, Paulie, sure." He stood up, taking both cups with him.  
"What kind of music do you like?" John called from the kitchen.  
"Mostly old stuff, y'know, rock n'roll."  
John walked back to Paul and grinned so much Paul thought his face would split.  
"I knew there was a reason I was talking to you!" Elvis's smooth voice echoed trough the house. Paul stood up and started dancing, throwing his arms and legs awkwardly. John's laughter was mostly drowned out by the music. John galloped over to Paul and began dancing alongside him. Paul laughed at John's flaunting and jumping around. John smiled at Paul and got closer to him, grabbing his hands and spinning around. They laughed and danced until they fell over. John met Paul's gaze and grinned wider. Paul stood up suddenly, his smile fading.  
"I have to go." He ran out the door, only looking back once to see John hurt and confused look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't noticed, I'm very American, so my words and stuff might be off. Comments and Kudos are appreciated!


	3. Emotions are Rough

A few weeks after the John fiasco, Paul's face was mostly healed, but his emotions were still confused and jumbled up. Paul could still vividly feel John's warm hands around his own and his bright happy eyes scrunched up with joy. His stomach jumped and twisted around at those thoughts.   
Paul walked over to the window facing John's. He sat down and stared at the other window, hoping it would suddenly open and John would pop out of it with his bright grin and start relentlessly teasing Paul.  
"Paul!" Paul's dad called, "Someone's here for you!" John! Was Paul's immediate thought. Paul raced downstairs, tripping on the last few. It wasn't John. It was George.  
"Boy, do you look happy to see me," George said sarcastically at Paul's fallen face, "Or were you hoping for a certain someone?" George waggled his eyebrows smugly.  
"Ew! No, gross, Geo." Paul pulled George inside and upstairs to his room.

"What do you need?"   
George chuckled, "I just wanted to hang out with my mate... Who keeps looking expectantly out the window."  
Paul whirled around, his face getting hot, "No I'm not!"  
George laughed, "Sure. And I DEFINITELY don't have a crush on Brian May."  
"George, he's like seventy now. Stop being in love with old men."  
"But he's so good at guitar," George whined, "And he's smart and funny and so amazingly pretty. Like have you seen him in the white cape/wing thingy..."  
Paul began to block out George listing ways that Brian May was the best person ever, instead he went back to staring at John's house. Well... John's window. Well actually... John inside of his room, jumping around and strumming viscously at a guitar. Paul smiled softly at him. John caught his gaze and smiled back, setting down his guitar and going to the window.  
"George, shut up." Paul walked to his window, where John was sticking his head out and grinning.  
"Ey Paulie!" He called happily.  
"Hello Lennon!" Paul responded, feeling George's confused stare on him.  
"How is the princess today?"  
Paul blushed and scrunched up his nose, "I'm not a princess. I'm the knight that saves the princess!"  
John nearly doubled over in laughter, "Does that make me the princess?"  
Paul tapped his chin, "Yes. Yes it does."  
"Uh... Hey! I'm George. I'm Paul's best mate." George popped his head out of the window and waved to John.  
"Hey George, I'm John, Paul's neighbour." John waved happily.  
George eyed Paul suspiciously.  
"What are you working on, Lenny?" Paul asked, gesturing to the guitar.  
Grinning, John picked it up, "Would you like to hear?"  
"Of course!" Paul beamed at John.  
John began expertly strumming the guitar, but it was his voice that caught Paul off guard. It was kind of high pitched and flowed out like chunky peanut butter, rough but still utterly amazing.   
"That'll be the day when you make me cry, yeah that'll be the day when you say goodbye. You say you're gonna leave me, you know that's a lie, cause that'll be the day WHEN I DIE!" John continued singing happily, never breaking eye contact with Paul. Paul's intestines suddenly became very interested in acrobatics.  
John finished the song, smiling and laughing. Paul's body forgot how to move. He could imagine how stupid he looked, mouth hanging open and his eyes wide.  
"Was my playing that bad?" John asked, chuckling.  
"NO! It was amazing. George could take a few notes." George scoffed and walked away.  
"Bye Paul. I've got to go."  
"Bye Geo."  
Paul didn't turn his gaze from John.   
"Come onto the tree!" John suggested, "We can sit there and talk, and you're not in my room, so Mimi won't get mad." Paul laughed and made his way to the huge tree that towered between the two houses.   
John and Paul sat in the tree, grinning at each other.   
"John and Paaauuul sitting in the tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" George called, making his way out the door.  
Paul looked away from John and blushed.  
"Paulie's not gay!" John yelled.  
"Right." George said, unconvinced.  
John leaned onto another branch and closed his eyes, a gentle smile crossing his face. Paul studied him, memorising every crook and dimple on his face.  
"If you're not gay, why do you look at my face so much?"  
John's words came back to Paul, 'For a straight guy, you're sure spending a lot of time looking at my face.' Paul just shrugged, "You have an interesting face."  
John looked up smugly, "Obviously." He flipped what little hair he had and smirked at Paul.  
"I only look at boys for seven seconds at a time, that way it's not creepy." John stated, completely serious. Paul giggled.  
"You're weird, Lennon."  
"I have a name, y'know."  
Paul blushed, "Yeah, I know. I just like Lennon better than-" Paul paused awkwardly, "John."  
"My name isn't that awful," John laughed, "At least my name doesn't make me sound like I'm eighty."  
Paul scoffed, punching John lightly in the shoulder. John wrapped his arm around Paul's shoulders in retaliation. Paul smiled and rested his head against John, closing his eyes and breathing in John's warmth.  
John exhaled a shuddery breath. It was kind of cold, so that was understandable. Wind blew. Paul shivered and carefully moved closer to John. John held him tighter. Just two guys being mates. Keeping each other warm. Two dudes being guys. No romantic feelings were necessary. And no romantic feelings were happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Pi day. Also, schools cancelled. Yay.


	4. Ice Cream

After about a month more of going into the tree with John every night, Paul came to an important realisation. He was in love with John. That explained everything perfectly, why his stomach hurt anytime John smiled, why he wanted to be around him all the time, why he kept having an overwhelming urge to touch John. Paul loved John. It made sense, but it didn't make Paul feel good. It made his stomach ache and his face feel like it was on fire. It was hideous.  
Paul sat on his bed, reading a book with Bowie playing softly in the background. There was some rustling and suddenly John was next to him with his chin on Paul's shoulder.   
"Paullllliieeee!" John whispered, "I need attention!"  
Paul marked his spot in the book and ran a hand through John's hair, combing out the tangles, "You're like a cat, Johnny."  
"Johnny? That's a new one," John grinned, "It's brilliant."  
Paul beamed and hugged John tightly. They sat like that, holding each other, refusing to let go.   
John kissed Paul softly on the cheek, causing Paul's face to erupt in fiery redness.  
John smiled his smug, beautiful smile at Paul. Paul pushed John's face away and stood up, grabbing his guitar.  
"Any requests?" Paul asked, grinning at John.  
"Queen?" John asked with pleading eyes.  
Paul smiled wider and began strumming Crazy Little Thing Called Love.  
John beamed and danced around to Paul's playing and singing. He laughed and tripped over his foot.  
"Paul? Are you okay?" Jim McCartney said, poking his head in the room. John stood up quickly, "Who are you?"  
"I'm John Lennon," John said politely, "I live next door." Jim eyed Paul suspiciously.  
"How did you get in?"  
"The window," John stated simply.  
"Okay..." Jim left, giving Paul one last incredulous look.   
"Sorry, he's weird."  
John laughed, "That's fine, I still like you."  
Paul blushed. John grinned again.  
"That's... Good, I suppose."  
John got closer to Paul, "Yes. Yes it is."   
Paul stepped towards him, "Yup."  
John leaned forward, touching their noses together.  
Then George came in. He quickly realised what was happening, John's arms were around Paul's waist and they were standing VERY close together.  
"Shit. Sorry!" He stepped out, grinning, "Carry on!"  
John stepped back, his face turning a lovely shade of pink as he rubbed the back of his neck embarrassedly. Paul looked away from him. We almost kissed, he thought, processing the events that had just occurred. Paul's stomach began to ache and jump with the thought of his mouth on John's.   
"Am I clear to enter?" George called, "Are all of the clothes back on?"  
"Yeah, George." Paul sighed, "They were never off in the first place."   
George walked in, "Are there going to be wedding bells in the future? Can I be the best man?"  
Paul wrinkled his nose, "Gross Geo. We didn't even do anything. I'm seventeen. I still have a LOT of years to think about that stuff." Paul smirked at George, "Plus Ringo would be my best man."  
George gasped, "Leave my boyfriend out of this."  
"You guys aren't even dating," Paul pointed out.  
"Not yet!" George scanned John up and down, "I can see why Paul likes you."  
Both John and Paul turned dark shades of red, not daring to look at one another.  
"Not gay," Paul tried.   
George waved a hand at him and continued to look at John, "I mean, he's no Brian May or Ringo Starr, but he's pretty."  
"Brian May? From Queen?"   
George clapped his hands gleefully, "He's smart too! Paul, you picked out a good one!"  
"We're not- We're not a thing," John stated, turning to Paul, who nodded vigorously.  
"Paul, as cute as he is, is straight, and therefore off limits."  
Paul blushed at John's words and George laughed.  
"He's just in denial."  
"No I'm not! I meant it. I'm not gay, I'm bi!" Paul almost regretted the words coming out of his mouth, but John's bright grin made him mean it.   
"I was right!" George shouted, "Paul likes dudes!" Paul put a hand over George's mouth.  
"Tell the whole world while you're at it, Geo." Paul stated, "My dad's downstairs."  
"Well John," George put an elbow on John's shoulder, "Looks like Paul is back on the table." John looked at Paul, his ears turning bright red.  
"I value Paul's friendship, so I'm not gonna make a pass at him," John told George curtly.  
"Your loss," George shrugged.  
"Uhh... I'm still here," Paul waved a hand between them. John smiled softly at him.   
"Paul?" A soft, high pitched voice said. All three of them turned around to see Mike, Paul's little brother, standing and staring at them with big brown eyes.  
"What is it Mikey?" Paul asked softly.  
"Can we go get ice cream? Dad said to ask you to take me," Mike asked.  
Paul grinned, "Of course," he turned to George and John, "Do either of you want to come?"  
"I've got to go, but maybe John would like to go," George said. John nodded, smiling brightly at Paul.  
"Okay Mikey, just let me put on," Paul looked down at his clothes, "Not sweatpants."  
Mike and John both giggled.   
George patted Paul on the back, "Bye, mate."  
"Bye!" Mike and George stepped out of Paul's room. Paul started pulling off his shirt, "You just gonna stare at me while I take off my clothes?" He asked John, who was staring at Paul's exposed torso.  
John grew wide eyed and locked his gaze to Paul's face, "Sorry..."  
He turned around, Paul pulled on a tank top and some shorts.   
"Okay, Johnny boy, you're good," Paul told the other.   
John turned around, he looked Paul up and down, "Man, if I didn't actually like you, I would be all over you."  
"Yeah, what's the deal with that? Do you just immediately lose romantic feelings for people as soon as you actually get to know them?"  
John's cheeks were dusted in a thin rosy layer, "I just prefer not to ruin lives of people I respect. Because that's usually what happens when I get a boyfriend or girlfriend."  
"I'm sure that's not true," Paul assured him. John chuckled, patting Paul on the back.  
"It is, but it's fine," Paul hugged him and kissed him softly on the cheek.  
"Stop flirting with me, it confuses me," John laughed.  
"Ice cream?" Paul asked.  
"Ice cream," John affirmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to say. I'm bored, come talk to me. My Instagram is @rainwingbelle, my email is rainwingbelle@gmail.com.


	5. Chapter 5

It was now official. Paul was in love with John. He was so far gone and falling more everyday. It hurt. John wouldn't want him. Well, he was always flirting with Paul, but as soon as he realised what he was doing, he would stop. It hurt.  
John started staying more nights. He would climb through the wide window and pass out on Paul's beanbag chair. One night, Paul had insisted that John sleep in his bed with him, so he did. Paul woke up spooning John with John pressed flush against Paul. There wasn't a spot where they weren't touching. It was wonderful. They continued for a few more weeks. 

Then Paul's dad began to take notice. He continuously rudely referred to John as Paul's boyfriend. It was annoying. And, unfortunately, not true.  
Then John told Paul something. Something that changed everything.

"Paul!?" John scrambled up the tree and into Paul's room as fast as he could.  
Paul laughed as John struggled and nearly fell out of the tree, "What is it, Johnny?"  
John eventually made it to Paul's room. He stood in the middle on the floor with sticks and leaves poking out of his hair.  
He panted for a moment before talking, "I need to talk to you."  
Paul's heart stopped beating. John's normally smirking face was grave and concerned.  
"Go ahead."  
"I-I... I've got this mate called Stu, wonderful bloke, and he," John mumbled something intelligible.  
"What was that?" John mumbled intelligibly again, "John, love, you're going to have to speak louder-"  
"He asked me out! Like on a date!" John exclaimed loudly. He buried his face in his knees, "Paulie, what should I do?"  
Paul ran his fingers through John's soft auburn hair, "Do you like him back?" John shook his head rapidly, "Would dating him help you in any way?" John shook his head once more.   
Paul sighed, "So, I think what you should do is, you should say that you aren't looking for a relationship now but you don't want this to stop you from being friends." John nodded solemnly, taking out his phone and putting it to his ear.  
"Hey Stu! About what you said earlier..." He went on to describe basically everything Paul said with a few personal touches. He paced the floor as he talked, becoming more and more wound up.  
John eventually hung up the phone, flopping onto Paul's bed.  
"Paulie, you are a lifesaver!" He sighed in relief, "I could kiss you!" I wouldn't be entirely opposed to that, Paul thought, just do it already. John stared at him, wide eyed.  
"Did I say that out loud?" Paul asked nervously. John nodded slightly, his mouth dropping open.  
"Uh... Sorry! You just got out of strange friend-relationship issues and awkward love confessions, you don't need more."  
John sat up more, crawling nervously across the bed to Paul.  
Moving towards the other boy, he softly asked, "Can I?", his nose nearly brushing against Paul's. Paul nodded eagerly, softening at the fact that John had asked before doing anything. John cradled Paul's face in his hand and began leaning forward.  
Before they could do anything, Jim sauntered in and picked up Paul's laundry basket. He looked up briefly, his eyes becoming the size of dinner plates as he looked on the two boys and their suggestive position.  
"Oh- I'm sorry!" He stumbled out with the basket and closed the door loudly. John sat back, giggling. Paul had an annoyed look spread across his face.  
"Why does that always happen?" Paul huffed. John laughed, slumping against Paul and smiling.  
"What always happens?" John asked, grinning.  
"Every time we almost kiss, someone barges in and ruins the moment! Twice now!" Paul exclaimed exasperatedly. John nodded thoughtfully. I'm going to take matters into my own hands, Paul thought. He surged towards John and pressed their lips together. John jumped slightly, nearly falling off the bed. His hands found Paul's cheeks. Paul's arms were wrapped firmly around John's back, his stomach jumping and exploding with overwhelming joy.   
John broke it off, laughing and beaming at Paul, "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."  
"I might have a clue."  
John placed his forehead against Paul's, his eyes flickering shut, "Day one, love. I've wanted to do that since the first time I saw you."  
"Does this mean you're... Y'know, my boyfriend?"  
John smiled, laughing softly, "If you want, then I suppose I could make some arrangements."   
"Good. Because now you're stuck with me and I owe George a bunch of money."  
John's eyes flickered up, looking hurt and confused. Paul quickly realised what he had said and how that would make John feel without context.  
"Oh! George bet that you and I would end up together, I honestly didn't think that it would happen. Mostly because of my dumb immovable heterosexuality routine and because I was convinced that you would never want me." Paul admitted.  
"Have you seen yourself? It's ME who shouldn't have a chance with YOU, not the other way around," John assured him.  
Paul wasn't convinced, but he was happy. And John was too, and that's all that mattered. John pressed a gentle kiss to Paul's lips.  
"You're wonderful and amazing, Paulie."  
"You are too, Lennon."  
They were happy, and that's all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the end? Should I do an epilogue? Also, is anyone likes the Monkees and ships jonesmith, boy do I have a story for you. I wrote it, it's called You're Groovier Than a Texas Prairie Chicken. It's dumb, but I like validation. Comments and questions feed me.


	6. Epilogue pt.1

Roughly a year later (it's like May, so school's not over yet)~   
"Hello, love!" Paul called through the window. John's head instantly poked out.  
"Paul! My wonderful, gorgeous love who's more beautiful than the stars in all their immense glory!" John called exaggeratedly. Even though he knew John was joking, Paul could feel his cheeks slowly heat up. "Wait for one moment," John told him, shimmying down the pipe running up and down on the outside of his house.  
"Johnny, you know what dad said," Paul chided, "You have to use the front door."   
John pouted, climbing down the tree and walking to the front side of the house.  
Paul stood expectantly at the top of the stairs, staring down the door.   
There was a knock. Paul flew down the flight of stairs, tripping in the process.  
He made eye contact with his dad, "It's faster than walking." He assured him, picking himself up and opening the door.  
John turned around, a huge grin on his face and George at his side.  
John brushed it off as, "We both had a yearning to see you, love."  
Paul snorted, "Don't say yearning, Johnny. It's fucking weird." John laughed softly, kissing Paul on the cheek.  
George coughed lightly, "I have important news!" He declared. Paul led both of them to his room, clasping John's hand tightly.   
John plopped on the Paul's floor, pulling Paul with him and into his lap. Paul giggled, kissing John on the cheek. George stood in the middle of the room with a smug look on his face and his hands on his hips.   
"What is it Georgie?" George grinned wider.  
"I'm going to ask Ringo out," he exclaimed happily.   
Paul laughed, "After three years of pining?" George nodded, "When?"  
"Right now!" George pulled John and Paul up. "C'mon, moral support!"  
They burst out laughing, but obeyed.   
George was practically skipping across the street, his messy brown hair and leather jacket flowing in the rush of wind and a guitar securely fastened on his back. Paul was piggybacking on John, grinning and giggling, occasionally kissing John's head.   
"John?" Pauls voice asked out of the blue.  
"Yeah, love?"   
Paul sighed, "What're we gonna do when school's over? Cause I've got to go to college. I mean, I don't know your plans, but you and I are not gonna be able to see each other, and I don't want to have to say good bye-,"  
"Breathe, darling, it's gonna be okay. I love you too much to let you slip away. You're not getting rid of me that easily."  
Paul's throat hitched, "You love me?" His voice cracked substantially.  
"Well, yeah," John laughed, "I probably should've saved that for a better, more tender moment than you riding on my back to Ringo's house so Georgie can confess."  
Paul held on to John tighter, almost like a hug.  
"If I could, I would make out with you right now," Paul told him. John threw his head back and laughed loudly.  
"Why can't you?" John asked, smirking.  
Paul giggled softly, "Cause we've gotta support Geo."  
They both looked at George, who had stopped in front of a house, staring at the door.  
"You can do it, George!" Paul called, cupping his hands around his mouth. George gave him a thumbs up. John stopped a few feet away from George and hoisted Paul off his back.  
George hesitantly knocked on the door.  
"Hey Georgie! What's up?" Ringo asked, leaning against the doorway and rushing his brown hair out of his bright eyes.  
George's face faded to a dark red, "I was wondering if... If maybe, you might perhaps, just maybe..."  
"Get on with it, Geo," John muttered. George had apparently heard, because he shot a sharp glare at John before continuing to stumble through his words.  
"I was wondering if maybe youwantedtogooutonadatewithme."  
Ringo cocked his head to the side smiling confusedly, "Can you say that again?"   
George sighed, looking at the other boy with dark, pleading eyes, "Would you like to go out? On a date? With-with me?" Ringo's blue eyes grew huge, he jumped forward and hugged George tightly.  
"Really? You mean it?" George nodded rapidly. "I would love to, Georgie." John and Paul clapped and cheered. George stared at Ringo with softened eyes and a bright , lovesick smile on his face. Then, a look of remembrance passed on his face. He took his guitar off his back.  
"I- uh, I wrote a song for you," Ringo grinned widely with pure, unbridled joy. "Here goes..." He played a short riff and began singing, "Something in the way he moves, attracts me like no other lover... Something in the way he woos me... I don't wanna leave him now, you know I believe and how," he played the riff again and stopped, "That's all I've got so far," he grinned sheepishly.   
Ringo looked on the verge of tears. He hugged George again, "Thank you..." Standing on the tips of his toes, he gently kissed George's cheek.  
"I think I have a cavity from how sweet that was," John told Paul. Paul laughed and smiled brightly at him.  
"How come you haven't written me a song yet?" Paul asked jokingly.   
"Believe me, I've got a whole notebook dedicated to songs for you," John assured.  
"Why haven't I heard them?"  
John shrugged, "Because."  
"Because why?"  
"Cause I'm waiting for our wedding," he said nonchalantly. Paul stared at him, shocked.  
"What?"  
John laughed, "Not yet, but eventually. I mean, I love you and I think you love me. And you're gonna be eighteen next month, so it's not entirely unreasonable..."  
Paul kissed him, hard. "You low key just proposed to me," Paul giggled, kissing John again.  
John grinned smugly, "Maybe I did."  
"Well, hypothetically, if you proposed to me then, hypothetically of course, I think I would say yes."  
"Well, as great as that is, I'm still waiting till you're eighteen so that this can technically be legal," John picked Paul up bridal style, kissing his cheek.  
George huffed, "Of course I had to be outdone by the McLennons proposing..."  
Ringo hooked an arm around his neck, "It's okay, I think you did much better than that half assed kind of-proposal."   
George grinned, "Thanks Ritchie, you're wonderful."   
Ringo pecked his cheek, "You are, too."   
They turned to look at John and Paul, who were now kissing each other like there was no tomorrow. Ringo giggled. George stared triumphantly at them,   
"I made that happen, y'know. I forced Paul into his gay awakening and got them together."   
"Of course you did," Ringo patted him on the back and pulled him into his house, leaving the McLennons to their own devices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update, I've been working on schoolwork and my Monkees fic. I think I'm going to add a part two of the epilogue, because I finally know how to end it.


	7. Epilogue Pt. 2

"Happy Birthday, dear Paaauuul! Happy birthday to you!" The small crowd sang loudly.  
Paul stared down at the cake, candlelight shining blindingly in his eyes. He looked up briefly to see his dad and Mike both grinning as wide as their faces could handle. But John looked like he was somewhere else. His eyes were unfocused, and a fake smile was attempting to mask his nervousness.  
"What do you wish for Paul?" Mike asked in his small voice.  
"I wish that everybody everywhere would be happy, even just for a moment," Paul blew out the eighteen candles, grinning widely. John smiled at him softly before returning to his thoughts. What was wrong with him? Was he going to break up with Paul? No. He can't. Not on Paul's birthday.  
Paul graciously accepted the gifts from his aunts and uncles and everyone else. They were mostly simple things like suit jackets and socks, but Ringo and George had pooled their money and gotten him and Elvis record, an old one that was still in perfect condition. Paul's heart swelled and he felt like he was going to cry.  
"Thank you guys! It's brilliant," he told them, clutching it like a life raft.  
John still made no attempt to speak to him. Paul was nervous. But, he had people to attend to. It was his birthday, after all.

The night went on. His dad brought him a brand new guitar. It was stunning! Paul wasted no time in playing it. He played Elvis and Buddy Holly for what seemed like half an hour.  
"Why don't you play one of your own songs?" Paul looked at the person who said it, his aunt who didn't know that most of his songs were love songs written for John.  
Paul blushed. "Uhh... Okay." He set down the guitar and took a spot at the piano, John happened to be standing right in Paul's range of vision.  
Paul tried to look away from him as he played the opening and began singing,  
"Oh, darling! Please believe me, I'll never do you no harm... Believe me when I tell you, I'll never do you no harm," Paul sang, looking directly at John, who seemed to be very interested in the tiling on the floor, "Oh darling, if you leave me I'll never make it alone... Believe me when I beg you, don't ever leave me alone," Paul turned to look briefly at the group, some of who were enraptured in his playing, and some who were off making their own conversations.  
"When you told me you didn't need me any more, well you know I nearly broke down and cried! When you told me you didn't need me any more, oh well you know I Healy broke down and diieeed! Oh Johnny!" Paul pronounced John's name loosely enough so it still sounded like darling, but it definitely caught his attention. His soft brown eyes looked up, shocked. They bore into Paul's soul.  
"I'll never let you down! Oh believe me darling! Believe me when I tell you, Oohhh! I'll never do you no harm!" Paul ended the song with less intensity than it should be played, but he got the point across to John, who's face had become a tomato.  
People clapped and cheered.  
"Did you write that for your girlfriend, Paul?" His uncle asked, smiling.  
"My boyfriend, actually," Paul said curtly. Some people gasped in shock, some were whispering, one of his cousins jumped up and yelled, "I knew it!"  
"He never actually told me he didn't need me, in fact, he's standing in this room," Paul giggled as everyone's heads turned to George, who was shaking his head rapidly, horrified that the attention was on him. Jim was sitting on the couch, laughing to himself with Mike in his lap, Paul grinned at his dad for being so accepting and cool with everything.  
Then Paul realised something, something important. John was gone. Paul sprinted out the door, ignoring the protests from everyone.  
"John!? John, love, where'd you go?!" He called anxiously from the end of the driveway.  
"I could do without you screaming in my face, but I'm here. I just needed some air." John grinned smugly at Paul, "You wrote me a song!"  
Paul smiled shyly, "Yeah, dozens. But you didn't hear the end! And you didn't see everyone freak out when one, I said I had a boyfriend, and two, that he was in this room," Paul pouted, "But then my boyfriend wasn't in that room. Care to explain, darling?"  
John coughed awkwardly, "Well my feet moved and brought me out of that room," he joked. Paul was unimpressed.  
"Why weren't you talking to me? You looked like you were far away the whole time! I need you here with me! Are you cheating on me? You're gonna break up with me, aren't you?! I knew this was gonna happen! You were bound to get sick of me and want someone else! I'm not-"  
Paul was abruptly cut off by John kissing him passionately.  
"I'm never going to leave you. I promise. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I'm not giving you up. And as for me being distant, I-I had something really important to ask you. Well, I still do." John awkwardly fumbled in his pocket, carefully pulling something out of it. He handed it to Paul.  
It was an old, battered, leather bound journal.  
"It has every song, poem, and drawing I've ever done for you. I'm bad with verbal words, so I wrote down how much you mean to me." Paul gingerly flipped through the notebook. There was a bookmark poking out of one of the pages. Paul hesitantly flipped to the page.  
A gasp forced its way out of his throat. There, in huge, carefully written letters, was a question. The most important question that Paul could think of.  
Will you marry me? Paul looked at John, who was on one knee, holding a small, simple ring in his hand.  
John had tears tracking their way down his cheeks as he smile expectantly.  
"Will you?"  
Paul smiled so wide, he thought his face would rip. He could barely see through the blurriness that was his tears.  
"Oh, Johnny! I love you so much! Fuck yeah!" John put the ring on his finger with shaking hands. Paul kissed him, rough and full of passion. John kissed back with equal passion, resting his hands on Paul's hips, Paul's wrapped tightly around John's neck.  
The kiss was broken by shouts of excitement and wonder. Paul looked up at the porch to see his dad with a huge smile and tears streaming down his face. George was jumping up and down, practically screaming with joy. Mike clapped happily from Ringo's arms. Ringo himself was grinning painfully wide.  
Surprisingly, only two of his relatives looked angry and disgusted, muttering under their breath about queers going to hell etc, as they made their way to their car. Of course they were married.  
But you know who else was going to be married? Paul and John. Paul was staring up at John in wonder and joy as John held him bridal style.  
"I thought you were going to leave me!" Paul muttered, "But, instead, we're gonna get married!" John smiled softly and kissed his boyfriend, no, fiancé on the cheek.  
"I know we're both young, but I love you more than everything in existence and I can't spend another moment without you," John told him. Paul kissed John sweetly.  
"I love you, too." He smiled, "Now, let's go tell everyone, even though they already know. We need to start making plans!"

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHH!!! I love them so much! I hope you liked the story! I hope to be writing more soon! Stay safe and stay groovy!  
> Peace and Love  
> Live Long and Prosper

**Author's Note:**

> What is up? I hope you enjoyed. Please comment, they keep me going. Also, the title is based on a David Bowie song.


End file.
